


Safe Haven

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do not repost, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: You're supposed to be laying low in a safe house but Steve Rogers decides to join you.
Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x you, Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Safe Haven

**Author's Note:**

> Only my second Steve Rogers fic ever! Please feel free to give constructive criticism and feedback.

The most recent leak of Hydra information had revealed not just Nat’s history but some of yours as well. It only took one day for someone to come across you and confront you about your past and connection to a devastating earthquake. The panic it had stirred almost made you lose control. You were not done training with Wanda and the limits of your memories and powers were still unknown. You’d elected to go off the grid for a while; lay low. Some of the team had been agreeable to it--but only some.

Scott had found a house in his neighborhood a few blocks away available _to rent_. Tony bought the place, claiming it was a liability thing. It was a flex, no doubt about it.

Steve offered to help you move some things into the house to help keep you busy.

“It’s just some of the stuff people suggested to me when I was catching up,” he said, offering you a stack of DVDs and books. You accepted them with your eyes downcast and a quiet thank you. You couldn’t look at Steve. You couldn’t bear to think about what he must’ve learned, what he must think about you. The potential for disappointment was high and who would possibly want to disappoint Captain America?

Steve didn’t mention it when he stopped by the first time. Or the next time. Or the time when he finally decided to claim one of the bedrooms for himself. But other than occupying one of the rooms, Steve spent most of his time in the garage or backyard. The neighbors didn’t seem to mind the rumble of the used motorcycle he’d bought. The women definitely didn’t mind watching _him_ as he’d take apart and rebuild the engine in the backyard either.

You kept to yourself, watching everything Steve had recommended. There was a moment or two when he came in from the backyard and his heavy footsteps would stop instead of fade away. A minute or two later, you looked over the back of the couch to see Steve staring at the TV, watching along with you.

“Do you wanna join me? I ordered pizza,” you offered. He blinked, breaking his trance from the flat screen TV. He looked at you, curled up on the couch in sweatpants and a camisole. Almost as if he had to consider being near you as one of the conditions, he shook his head, no you’re not worth it.

“No, no thanks. I’m good. I’ve seen this one.”

“Most people have seen _Grease_. It’s just fun to rewatch it sometimes. You’re sure?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m good. I have to get back to work on the bike.”

_Have to…_

That’s what was interesting and keeping you up at night. Why did Steve _have to_ rebuild a motorcycle...a motorcycle he’d bought out of nowhere...and brought to this safe house instead of the compound...why was he shacking up here?

You tried to put it out of your mind and ignore him. Focus on yourself and the meditation you were trying out. Forget the fact that one day a yoga mat and a book for beginners just randomly showed up in your room too. Over the span of the next week or so, you tried to ignore Steve and his coming and going from the backyard to his bedroom. _His_ bedroom.

Try as you might to ignore the hulking (haha get it?) man that was Steve Rogers, you couldn’t. What’s more, you couldn’t seem to figure out how and why he was managing to ignore you too!

You were trying some basic yoga stances when the motorcycle startled you. Losing your balance, you fell on your ass. It it had been days since the bike had started up. Steve kept it running for only a moment. You’re getting to your feet, rubbing your butt--as one does after a fall--when Steve walked in.

He was wearing dark denim jeans, a black leather belt and a dirty white tank top. He headed for the kitchen and washed his hands.

“What the hell, Rogers?”

Steve stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishrag. “What?” he asked innocently. Then he looked down to see your hands move from your butt, to your waist. He tossed the rag away and leaned against the door frame. “You okay?”

“Well, you could warn a person before turning that beast on. What the hell are you doing out there anyways? The bike works. Are you gonna ride it, or take it apart and put it together over and over again?”

“I like cleaning and rebuilding older bikes. I didn’t realize it was disturbing you. I’m sorry.” His ocean blue eyes took in your appearance and where you were standing. “Are you enjoying the yoga mat?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m trying to. Do you do yoga?” It was the first time Steve had mentioned the gift, much less the first time he’d spoken to you in days!

“Uh, no. It wasn’t really around when I was younger. Plus...uh…I don’t think I’d be good at it.”

“What? Why?”

“I can’t touch my toes,” he deadpanned.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing and it made you happy to see him smile and maybe even laugh a little at himself.

“Yeah all those muscles probably get in the way,” you teased. Steve shrugged, basically admitting as such. “Well maybe you can try it again sometime.” You could just imagine yourself jumping on his back, trying to help him bend over and touch his toes. Your cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much. Steve’s soft smile stayed in place.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like the Avengers Compound is a regular comedy club.” He nodded his head, acknowledging. He crossed his arms over his chest and it’s impossible not to stare at his biceps, covered in motor oil, dirt and grease.

“You know, the motorcycle is running again. Would you want to go for a ride?”

You don’t want to admit that you’re getting antsy in the house and you didn’t want to come off as just one more woman who was desperate for Steve’s attention, but the idea of fresh air and scenery was too good to pass up.

“Uh, sure, I guess. Let me just grab a sweater.”

You changed your entire outfit, not because you were going on a joyride with Steve Rogers, but because it was the early afternoon and getting cold; also, yoga pants are not proper attire for motorcycles. Leather was desirable for several reasons (let me count the ways, nvm we don’t have time). Meeting him on the driveway with a big helmet in his hand, Steve appeared to have cleaned up as well, all signs of grease were gone and he was wearing a tight white t-shirt under a brown leather jacket.

“Cute,” Steve smiled as he settled the helmet on your head and helped you buckle it. He put on a pair of aviator sunglasses and elected to not wear a helmet (always wear a helmet though!).

The motorcycle sank under the weight of the supersoldier; you could’ve sworn the tires were about to pop. But whatever he’d done to maintain the bike had worked and it held up well. You sat on the second seat behind him. It wasn’t much of a seat and it left you feeling like you were spooning Steve. He reached down to grasp your thigh and you gasped. He was merely showing you were to put your feet but so much isolation lately had you questioning every move.

You couldn’t remember if you’d even been on a motorcycle before but the low growl of the machine between your legs was delicious and had you wrapping your arms around Steve and holding tight.

With the helmet on, you rested your head on Steve’s back and even dared to close your eyes.

The ride was short, though it involved an incline and winding roads. Your body was numb and tingling when Steve turned off the bike. He helped you hop off the bike and you instantly missed the purr of the engine. Your legs were practically jelly and you almost tumbled to the ground but Steve caught you. He set you on your feet and helped you to remove the helmet. Afterwards, he ran his hands through his own windswept hair. The setting sun lit up the blonde locks like a halo.

“Where are we?”

“I wanted to show you one of my favorite views in the city.” You would expect to be faced with a skyline of buildings, bridges, and lights. But that’s not what you were looking at. Almost as if the city was behind you, and in front of you was a rolling landscape bathed in the glow of a fading sun. Steve took a rolled up blanket off the motorcycle and laid it on the ground, just on the crest of a hill. He sat down and patted the spot beside him. “I like it here because it reminds me of...Europe--what little I saw of it--and the days when even the land surrounding New York seemed older, untouched. Don’t get me wrong, New York was big in the 40's too but nowadays,” he whistled, “it’s almost too big.”

“Claustrophobic even,” you said in a solemn tone. You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. Even when faced with the great expanse of this landscape...the image of a small cavern surrounding you, the walls closing in...

“Hey, you okay?” Steve turned and even put an arm around your shoulders. It’s meant to be a comforting gesture but you read it as a weight bearing down upon you. You shrugged off his embrace and turned your entire body to face him.

“Steve, what are you doing staying at the house? Why are you hanging around?”

“What?”

“You don’t trust me, do you? You’ve read my files. You probably know more about me than I do. So you feel like you need to babysit me in that house, is that it?” Steve reached out for you but you swatted his hands away.

“No, Y/N, no that’s not it. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“I don’t think so. You’re keeping an eye on me. A giant man like you tip-toeing around me like I’m a ticking time bomb. What are you waiting for? Why don’t you just lock me up?” You jumped to your feet and the ground shakes beneath you. It’s the first sign of your powers in days. You suddenly felt anchored to the soil, your limbs heavy with the weight of the land. It was ready to move at your command. 

Steve scrambled to his feet to match you and where you might expect fists, his hands were open and reaching out.

“Y/N, you don’t get it. You’re confused and you’re scared. It’s okay. I am too. And you’re right, I haven’t been honest with you, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to get hurt. So please,” he got down on his knees, inviting you to do the same. “Take a deep breath. Let’s talk. I’ll start. I’ll answer your questions.”

The earth shifted beneath you, softening like sand and creating a landing pad for your knees. You sank a few inches into the ground. What had you done? Had you just shown your hand and proven him right? You were dangerous.

“Bad people manipulated you for years. Turned your gift into a weapon and poisoned your mind. You’re trying to figure out who you are and your part in all this. You belong with us, with me. No one understands what you’re going through better than us.” Steve got up and picked you up out of the ground. He sat back on the blanket without a care for the dirt and rocks sullying the fabric. He cradled you in his lap, wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t fight it. His embrace felt warm and safe. “For decades, Buck was under the control of Hydra. He couldn’t trust himself either. He went back on ice in Wakanda and when he woke up, I wasn’t there. I want to be here for you, Y/N. You’re not alone.”

“Why didn’t you just say this all from the beginning?” you said, your voice just above a whisper. You shifted in his lap so that he would set you down and give you space.

“Because you’re as stubborn as boulder in the ground,” he said, matter-of-fact and with a smirk, it made you laugh. “You wouldn’t have let me stay if I told you I was there to help you. Tell me I’m wrong.” You couldn’t. He was right. You would’ve felt like he was babysitting you just as you already suspected. So instead, Captain America had weaseled his way into the house, into his own bedroom, and into your good graces, just so that he could be your support in the background. There if you’d need him, a silent safety net.

“You barely know me Steve. Why would you risk so much? Living with me when even a simple nightmare could shake the house or destroy the neighborhood.”

“Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.” Steve reached out to hold your hand. “I hope that I’ve at least proved myself to you?” He was a giant brick wall compared to you but his shoulders were slumped forward, his eyebrows knit together with concern, completely non-threatening. Your hand slipped into his and it was dwarfed by his own. He slowly pulled you back into his embrace. You could feel his warm breath in your hair, his soft lips pressed to your head.

You had the power to move mountains but Steve Rogers...he had the power to move you.


End file.
